


Fair Play

by dracoqueen22



Series: Crown the Empire [13]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Sticky Sexual Interfacing (Transformers)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:22:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29767872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoqueen22/pseuds/dracoqueen22
Summary: When Grimlock comes home late one too many times, Starscream reminds him that turnabout is fair play.
Relationships: Grimlock/Starscream (Transformers)
Series: Crown the Empire [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/361238
Comments: 13
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Parts I and II written for requesters on a Flash Fic Weekend. :)

Grimlock slunk into the quarters he shared with Starscream, fully expecting to be berated for coming home late when he’d promised not to do so for more than three nights in a row. 

Instead, he found himself in a cold and dark suite. There was no surly Seeker in his berth. There was no twitchy Seeker in the washrack. There was no tense Seeker ignoring him, save for the occasional icy stare. 

In fact, there was no Seeker at all. 

Grimlock immediately turned and strode back out, heading not for his own office, but Starscream’s. It was located on the same level as Grimlock’s, but at the end of the hall so he had the best view of Iacon and the many reconstruction efforts. 

Grimlock let himself into Starscream’s locked office, and found his missing conjunx perched behind his desk, seemingly buried behind several stacks of datapads. He had a tray of engex and goodies next to him, as if he planned to stay all night. 

“Working late?” Grimlock asked as he approached the desk, wary as any reasonable mech would be when they were aware they’d slighted Starscream. 

His mate looked up at him, face empty of anything but a carefully sculpted blandness, and in that moment, Grimlock knew he was being punished. “I may not be leader of the Decepticons, but I’m still quite busy,” he said before returning his attention to the datapads.

“Are you planning on coming home tonight?” Grimlock asked. 

“Eventually.” Starscream selected a treat at random, and popped it into his mouth. “I’d love to give you an estimate, but I haven’t even begun to review these items. It’s all integral to the continued functioning of Iacon. It can’t possibly wait until tomorrow.” 

Grimlock cycled a ventilation. 

Yes. He was most certainly being punished. 

“Alright.” He leaned forward, resting his hands on the edge of the desk, oddly free of piles of work as if Starscream had left it clear on purpose. “Point taken. Will you please come home with me?” 

“Point?” Starscream cycled his optics, looking up at him with a completely innocent cant of his head. “I don’t know what you mean. I have work to do, therefore, I am doing it.” 

Grimlock chuffed and leaned closer, until their faces were inches apart. “I know what you’re doing.” 

“My job?” Starscream asked. 

Grimlock rapped a nonsense rhythm on the desktop. “I said I would not be late more than three nights a week, and yet I was late tonight, for the fourth evening in a row. You are proving a point.” 

“And which point is that?” Starscream returned his attention to his datapad, stylus scribbling across the screen as though Grimlock’s presence had no effect on him whatsoever. 

“That I’m not the only one who shoulders the burdens of leadership,” Grimlock said, reaching out with his field to offer his apology as well. “It is a burden we share, and the amount of work clogging my desk is no heavier than the work on yours.” 

Starscream nodded slowly. “Yes, that’s certainly true.” He closed the datapad, moved it to one stack and reached for another pad. “You lead the Decepticons only because I agreed not to fight you, as I recall.” 

“But that’s not the only point,” Grimlock said, engine rumbling. He reached across the desk, laying his hand over Starscream’s datapad, hiding the screen from view. “There are things I should not be putting second.” 

Starscream went still, even the tips of his wings no longer twitching. “Oh?” 

Grimlock’s hand curled under Starscream’s, lifting it away from the datapad and toward his mouthplate. “The work will be there in the morning. I have competent mechs to which I can delegate. I need to come home to the mech who owns my spark.” 

Starscream’s glossa flicked over his lips. His fingers slowly curled against Grimlock’s before he lifted his optics, meeting Grimlock’s gaze. “And who would that be?” 

“You.” Grimlock cupped Starscream’s head with his other hand, sweeping his thumb over Starscream’s cheek. “Come home. Please?” 

Starscream’s intake worked. “I’m not a fool, Grimlock. I know very well that there are some matters which necessitate lateness.”

“And I need to do a better job at identifying the things I can’t avoid, and what can wait until morning,” Grimlock said. 

“Yes.” Starscream’s optics narrowed. “And I will ask Cyclonus if I suspect you’re misrepresenting your priorities again.” 

“That’s fair.”

Starscream, finally, smiled. “Then I suppose I don’t have as much work to do as I thought.” He turned his head, pressing a kiss to Grimlock’s palm. “Let’s go home.” 

It was a victory, no matter how tenuous, but Grimlock would not forget the lesson anytime soon.

***


	2. Chapter 2

“Admit it,” Starscream purred once they were in the relative privacy of their shared habsuite, barely beyond the entrance. His hands slid over Grimlock’s chassis, talons teasing along transformation seams. “You came after me because you didn’t want to recharge alone.” 

Grimlock hummed and rested his hands on Starscream’s hips, tugging his mate closer. “That might have been a factor.” 

“I knew it.” Starscream chuckled, his wings twitching with victorious delight. “You are frighteningly easy to manipulate, my lord.”

Grimlock slid one hand up, fingers resting at the base of Starscream’s wing mounts, teasing the sensitive juncture. “Only when it comes to you.” 

“And ever the silver glossa as well.” Starscream shivered, wings fluttering, his talons digging in harder, leaving fine scrapes in Grimlock’s paint. “That’s a dangerous admission. I might use it against you in the future.” 

A chuckle resonated in Grimlock’s chassis. “Withhold interfacing to get what you want, you mean?” 

“Did I say that? I don’t think I did.” Starscream rose up, pressing a kiss to the bottom curve of Grimlock’s mouthplate. “I might be convinced to forgive you for breaking your promise, but you’ll have to work hard at making it up to me.” 

Grimlock gripped his aft, lifting him with ease, and Starscream shivered as his thighs gripped Grimlock’s waist. He wrapped his arms over Grimlock’s shoulders, their pelvic spans coming into delicious, hot contact. Grimlock’s engine rumbled, vibrating their armor, and Starscream’s spark spun a little faster. 

“Like this, you mean?” Grimlock asked. 

Starscream toyed with Grimlock’s nape, the tip of a talon teasing right along the ridge of his helm and spinal column -- a section both sensitive and vulnerable. “It’s a start.” 

Heat gleamed in Grimlock’s visor, his field sizzling where it slid along Starscream’s, thick with both lust and appreciation. “Then allow me to continue,” Grimlock rumbled.

He carried Starscream further into their habsuite with an ease that never failed to delight Starscream. He was not the sort to let anyone mechhandle him, but he trusted Grimlock, trusted his conjunx’s strength and respect. And yes, maybe he was aroused by how much power Grimlock wielded.

But only because Grimlock treated that power with the respect it deserved. It was a lesson Megatron had never learned. 

“Berth?” Grimlock asked. 

Starscream rocked his hips, grinding down against the heat emanating from Grimlock’s pelvic arch. “Too far,” he said. 

“Thought so.” Grimlock’s affectionate amusement rumbled through his chassis, his hands kneading at Starscream’s aft. 

Two more stumbling steps and they made it to the receiving room, to the plush chairs scattered around a low table, meant for private, diplomatic meetings or entertaining political and business partners. 

“I don’t think we’ve tried that one yet,” Starscream said, pointing to a recent addition -- a wide and flat chaise specifically designed to accommodate fliers with awkwardly arranged wings. “And it’s our solemn duty to test every piece of furniture for comfort.” 

“Well, if it’s duty…” Grimlock chuckled and plopped down on the chaise, Starscream in his lap, their frames notched together just the way Starscream liked it. “Better?”

“Much.” Starscream rolled his hips again, heat winding sharp and fast through his circuits. “You’ve been gone for three nights in a row. You have a lot to make up for.” 

Grimlock stroked along the leading edge of one wing, and Starscream shivered. “I apologize,” he murmured as a quiet click preceded the nudge of a spike against Starscream’s panel. ”Will this do?” 

“I don’t know.” 

Starscream tilted his head, pretending to consider the offering, before he allowed his valve panel to spiral open, the head of Grimlock’s spike teasing along the swollen, damp pleats. 

Starscream smirked, talontip nudging along that sensitive juncture once more. “You’ll have to keep going to find out.” 

Grimlock laughed softly. “Your wish is my command.”

***


End file.
